


Don't Knock It

by Demytasse



Series: Punch-Drunk in Love [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Bickering, Cuddling, Developing Relationship, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kissing, M/M, Shizaya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 10:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demytasse/pseuds/Demytasse
Summary: Shizuo, cross as hell, looked as though he had been pulled from his relaxation too short of his liking. His sweatshirt twisted tight at the nooks of his twill arms, the cuffs of his lounge pants rested asymmetrically on his calves as the elastic barely did its job. Though Izaya couldn’t blame the disarray of his clothing given the gloss of sweat on Shizuo’s brow and the tuckered shoe laces on his sneakers.---Simple Shizuo and Izaya relationship shenanigans; Izaya's kinda a douche but makes up for it(?)





	Don't Knock It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allshewhispers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allshewhispers/gifts).



> Was an impromptu drabble. uwu

It was one something in the morning. There shouldn’t have been so much as a rap, nor a knock at his door. Nonetheless there was a persistent string of unbroken percussion, unavoidable and increasingly agitating. Grating and distracting. Impossible to stop lest he relented.

Izaya wasn’t one to give into another’s stubbornness, not without a purpose mind you, so in this case he didn’t see himself answering his summon a failure. Not at all. It was in his best interests, therefore a win. 

A couple of clicks added to the noise as he undid the locks and plunged the handle. When he swung door on its hinges the beating was successfully stopped, the attacker’s fist whiffed at the air.

    “Oh, it’s Shizu-chan. I couldn’t have fathomed that I would see your chipper mug.” he inspected a prominent dent under his apartment’s silver numbers.    
  
    “You lied to me.”

    “Did I?” he rolled his shoulders with a yawn. 

    “Don’t fuckin’ pull that shit, Izaya.”    
  
Shizuo, cross as hell, looked as though he had been pulled from his relaxation too short of his liking. His sweatshirt twisted tight at the nooks of his twill arms, the cuffs of his lounge pants rested asymmetrically on his calves as the elastic barely did its job. Though Izaya couldn’t blame the disarray of his clothing given the gloss of sweat on Shizuo’s brow and the tuckered shoe laces on his sneakers.

    “I assure you I wasn’t pulling any shit.”   
  
    “Then why are you here?”   
  
An exaggerated tug on his door frame angled Izaya enough to look to either ends of the hall, “boy, did I get my apartment wrong again?”

Disgruntled met gruntled as the two exchanged their expressions. Izaya, pleased as punch, drew himself back into a cocky lean; Shizuo, just short of a punch, barely refrained knocking the sass out of the asshole it belonged to. 

    “You know what? Forget it. I don’t care.” Shizuo scoffed.

Usually that annoyance had him storm off to release his tirade on the town, that’s what Izaya expected at least. So the bulldozed arm across his midsection was a tad of a shock. It took a moment to regain the wind in his lungs, but his own personal fireman now had him draped over his shoulder while he forced his invasion of the living space after a solid kick to the door.

    “You know,” Izaya rasped, “you could at least give me a warning.”   
  
Shizuo rolled his eyes, the informant decided from his backside view.

    “Tch. What makes you think you deserve a warning?”

    “Isn’t that what a loving boyfriend should do?” He poked at base of Shizuo’s spine, a place that would have gotten him annoyed should another been inspired.

A shift of Shizuo’s weight and a repositioned arm aided an efficient throw of Izaya onto the couch. Back against the slick leather, he faced the demon who steeled his glare, more so than it was held before. It was a feat that Izaya legitimately applauded, but not literally. That would’ve seemed odd. 

    “...loving boyfriend,” he grumbled.    
  
_       Aha! There’s the eye roll that I love so much. _

Shizuo dumped his weight into the armchair opposite the couch with his arms returned to their natural tie at his chest, a laughable jut of his lip below his scowl and aversion of his glance.

    “Why throw me onto the couch if you’re going to sit in--”   
  
    “I’m angry with you, flea, so shut the fuck up.” He turned his head even further away.

    “Oh, so you don’t mind if I leave then--”   
  
    “Shut up!”

And Izaya did. For a moment he honestly shut his mouth. Though the request of him expired after he gathered up his ragdoll limbs and made way to Shizuo.    
  
The brattish blond remained stationary in his annoyance, even as Izaya stood before him.

    “Aww, I really did hurt your feelings.”   
  
    “God you’re demeaning…” 

    “I don’t intend to be, in this case at least.”    
  
Izaya slithered over Shizuo’s wide spread legs, rested himself in between his thighs before he elegantly crossed legs over the side of the chair. His arms fashioned a hook around his partner’s neck, bumped his forehead against a cushion of disheveled hair.    
  
    “I’m sorry.”

A few seconds were killed for consideration, the count wound up around forty-three, give or take due to a human’s unreliable tick.

    “...it’s not fine,” Shizuo faced forward, “I don’t deserve to be messed with like your stupid pawns or whatever.”

Shizuo tsk'd at the very thought of Izaya tormenting others let alone himself.

    “That’s fair,” he shrugged sympathetic to his ill doing.

    “...this is fine, though.”

Shizuo’s response was hardly audible, a mumble covered by the air conditioning. 

    “What was that?” 

Izaya kissed the tip of Shizuo’s cheekbone to receive the slip of stern features. He repeated his affection in random placement until he got at least a fractional smile.

    “I said you’re an asshole,” he yanked Izaya into a connection of their lips.

Izaya giggled into their kiss, Shizuo playfully growled, it was a complete mishmash of sound that lasted just as long as their awkward squirm in the compact chair.    
  
Shizuo, obviously exhausted based on his lazy smosh, pulled back with Izaya still gripped on by his teeth; he let go, humour already gained.

    “Did your run here affect you that much?”   
  
    “Ha! I didn’t run. You think too highly of yourself.”

The jab against Izaya’s forehead most definitely bruised.

    “Excuse me. Angrily trudged, then.”

He watched as Shizuo reclined against the back support, too tired to be fazed.

    “For the last time. Shut up.”

Izaya shook his head with a defeated release of breath, “I suppose I owe you that,” and nestled into the best comfort he could get at the janky angle; he rested his ear against a steady heartbeat and slid into a calmed state.

Shizuo snorted.   
  
_       I do  _ not _ owe you more, Shizu-chan, but… _

    “This is fine for now, then.”   
  
It took the beast hearing the response to fall into an immediate slumber. A dead weighted arm had laid over Izaya, hot like a space heater to which satisfied his final requirement to sleep. 

Izaya wasn’t going to knock it, Shizuo’s company was worth the annoyance.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading! Kudos, feedback, and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
